


We're Going To Take Care Of You

by Born In Captivity- Ineligible to Release (Jashasedai)



Series: Alternate Universe - Tame Racing Drivers [49]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tame Racing Drivers, Chronic Illness, Doubles of Every Character, Lost Child, The kid doesn't have a double
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jashasedai/pseuds/Born%20In%20Captivity-%20Ineligible%20to%20Release
Summary: In an AU where a secret species is used as Racing Drivers, family is what you make of it.When the Grand Tour is broadcast, Niki Lauda and Grad never arrive to manage the Ferrari refugee camp.This is the story of how Niki and Grad spend the Refugee Winter running an old fuel station.I've been working on this story for awhile, but now it's being posted in tribute.Niki Lauda RIP: February 22, 1949 - May 20, 2019(First chapter is being combined from Tonsorial, the rest hasn't been posted before.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Tame Racing Drivers AU. Read the series summary.
> 
> The basics are these- All professional racing drivers and riders have double who do the actual racing. The doubles are kept in stables as livestock until it is time to race. They are telepathic and form a telepathic bond with the human who shares their name.

**2015** ****  
  
After the Nurburgring, matches he’d just met asked one of two questions.  Men who Niki could respect asked the first to his face, “Are you always such a pretentious asshole?"  Men he couldn’t respect asked it after he’d walked away.

"Was he driving the day it happened?"   
  
That question had never been asked to his face. He knew they asked it, even so.   
  
Matches didn't drive. Racing Drivers were altered to their matches, not the other way around. Of those two laws of nature, it was easiest to believe an exception had been made to the first.   
  
Because to have endured the second would be unthinkable. Even to save your Driver, even to win.   
  
Niki had never met a match that didn't have a special relationship with his Driver. Some of them didn't acknowledge what they knew about their partners. A few didn't even acknowledge it to themselves, though those careers never progressed very far. Each of them was a special little snowflake. Just like all the others.   
  
He watched the Drivers come and go from the Ferrari team. Strong bonds and weak bonds. Every one with the will to succeed. Ferrari didn't buy Racing Drivers, they bought bond pairs. The man was as important in their considerations as the Driver.   
  
Granted, some purchases gave more back than others. Some were a lot more work than others. Schumacher and his damned insistence on sharing the drive was a walk in the park compared to that damned Raikkonen kid and his constant low grade show of defiance.   
  
Niki smiled.   
  
Grad was leaned back in a plastic chair, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, with his hat brim pulled over his eyes. He murmured his appreciation.   
  
Alonso's Driver had been deadly smart, Massa's had been as patient as a stone, Barrichello's had been passionate.   
  
Their matches had been motivated to do what it took to win.   
  
On the track and off.   
  
He watched the two red cars fight for position on the track. He watched the two men in the two garages, eyes fixed on the monitors as though their lives depended on continued concentration.   
  
The activity in the garages was going on around them, as though they were other and separate. They barely moved, barely showed any signs of life. Indistinguishable from the other men in the pit unless you knew what to look for.   
  
They seemed like they happened to be standing in spots that were out of the way, but when you watched the traffic in the garage, the pattern became evident as it wove it's way around them. Each team was centred on the man leaning inconspicuously against the wall. Each revolving around him like a solar system around it's star.   
  
With a little facial twitch, but not much else, the man in the left garage turned his head a tiny bit, eyes never moving from the screen. There was a lag between when this happened and when his mouth began to speak, "I can smell his tires starting to go. I'm going to have him next lap."   
  
A moment later the man on the right took a slow breath and said, in a voice that sounded like it was being transmitted rather than spoken, "I've got serious deg in the tires, now."   
  
The cars on the track continued on at full speed, but after each of the corners, the second place car was a little closer. Niki watched impassively.    
  
Grad tapped his fingers on the chair and looked up at Niki. He made a lugging noise.   
  
Niki gestured absently, with the fluency of forty years, [We'll go after they come in.]   
  
Grad dropped another gear and lugged even more. He pushed himself out of his chair with a grunt. Not as much of a grunt as a human would have, but an old man's grunt nonetheless.   
  
In the garages the man on the left, with the lion's share of his attention still on the race, wadded up a piece of paper. Without glancing sideways, he tossed the paper ball through the garage.   
  
It sailed neatly through the garages, on a direct route to the other man fixated on the race. The projectile was aimed right at his face. With fast hands and infinite precision, the second man batted the ball off it's course as it came within arm's reach.   
  
The ball bounced upwards, and rebounded off the ceiling, bouncing off the top of his head and falling to the floor by his feet. He blinked. His body seemed to swell with renewed life force and he turned and looked into the other garage. 

The fluffy blond was still focused on the race, but one hand raised slowly with the forefinger extended.   
  
Raikkonen laughed and turned back to the race. Iceman had been passed, but was chasing Sunshine down with fierce determination. Kimi's face blanked again as he rejoined his Driver. His hand worked around a wadded up ball of paper.   
  
Niki patted Grad on the arm.   
  
[Alright, we'll go, now.]   
  
Some were prepared to do whatever it took. As foremost among these, Niki could spot the signs in others. If it came down to a choice like Niki had made, Vettel would be just as ready to give his all.    
  


 

**2011** ****  
  


Niki had been a Trainer for decades. He didn't coddle and, in a field like F1, a lot of the bond pairs responded well to his attitude. They got used to everyone pussy footing around them, deferring to them, and treating whatever bullshit they spouted as sage truth and gospel. Most of them longed to be off the pedestal. It was enough pressure trying to take care of a Racing Driver without having to be the lord and savior as well.   
  
And a chip on your shoulder didn't make your Driver better, it made him defensive. Confidence comes from within, from a realistic understanding of what you can do and what to do next. Drivers knew who was who, and it just broke them down when the matches tried to insist that instead of doing their best, they take down, usually the Driver of whichever match they didn't get along with, or were jealous of, or angry at.   
  
Stupid waste of time and energy.   
  
Niki walked into the house, with Grad a step behind him, just that little bit bouncier. Grad was holding onto the back of Niki's coat like a baby elephant holding its mother's tail. Niki had gone almost everywhere for the last 40 years either towing his Racing Driver or missing towing his Racing Driver.   
  
Grad's hand slipped and he made a winding down noise as His hand fell away from Niki's coat.    
  
Niki turned around.    
  
Grad was staring at his hand. Flattening it and curling it. The muscles were not really responding. He made an annoyed noise and shook it.   
  
Niki reached out and picked his hand up, he pressed on the fingers, sending to Grad that he should push back.   
  
The return pressure was weak.   
  
Niki pushed up the sleeve of his jacket and ran a finger up his wrist. He frowned.   
  
'Is this new?'   
  
Grad shook his head, he'd been having weakness, it just hadn't lasted more than a few seconds.   
  
'For how long?'   
  
Grad thought. He'd dropped a glass and reached out to catch it, but hadn't been able to close his hand around it, and just knocked it's trajectory to the side. That was the first time he noticed it. That was 3 seasons ago.   
  
Niki frowned. "Go upstairs, grab some of that menthol rub, we'll see if we can get that taken care of."   
  
He sent a placid concern over their bond, keeping the dropping fear feeling to himself. He turned on his phone and looked at the contact list.   
  
He could probably call Hakkinen. He should really call Constalioga.   
  
Mika was a good man. He would be able to make things appear in a positive light. He would be able to do a checkup on Grad and give Niki the news in a kind, gentle manner that wouldn't be too upsetting for him or Grad.   
  
This must be why they said doctors made the worst patients. Niki didn't want a second opinion. He had been a Trainer for 40 years, he knew exactly what his partner's prognosis was. He didn't want someone to cuddle him and make it hurt less. He didn't want all the things Trainers were trained to do in these situations.

The last time, when he'd been waiting for the scars to heal, he'd banned Constalioga from his room.  He had accepted the scaring to match Grad's burns, he wasn't suffering any guilt. It was what he had chosen, to keep Grad winning.   
  
He regretted, really regretted, for the first time since the inevitable had happened, that he couldn't call Michael. He hadn't let himself feel sorry about Micahel, not ever, because there had been too many of them.  He couldn't walk for burden of conscience of he let himself carry pieces of all those souls. Years and years of that would break a man down and grind him into mush.   
  
"What is wrong, Niki?" Raikkonen asked when Niki called.   
  
"He is losing fine muscle control. He has been getting worse for the last 3 years."   
  
There was silence on the other end of the line for awhile. "You know what it is or you would not call me."   
  
Niki wound up to tell him where he could go.   
  
"I will be there in 4 hours."   
  
They both hung up.

Grad came down the stairs.  He had the jar of menthol rub tucked into the crook of his left arm.  He looked at Niki and grimaced and shook his right hand.

[Still not working?] Niki gestured.

Grad just pursed his lips to one side and shook his head a little.

[Come sit down,] He patted a stool in the middle of the kitchen.  He had turned on Pandora. Streaming music was a great innovation.  Grad loved music, anything with a one-two beat. He had his own series of the newest iPods, from the time the first commercial had run on their television. [Take your shirt off.]

Grad peeled his shirt off and sat on the stool.  He held his hand up to Niki, he was moving the arm from the shoulder, now.

Niki supported Grad's arm and ran two fingers up the tendon in his forearm.  Niki had his tongue pressed against the left side of his mouth as he concentrated, willing his fingers to feel something other than what he expected.  They didn't. The tendon was loose under the skin. He ran his fingers up the muscles in the Racing Driver's forearm. They felt alright. He followed Grad's muscles up his bicep.  His shoulder and where the muscles ran across his back all felt fine, it was just the tendon from forearm to elbow that was loose.

Grad was watching this intently.  He had always been fascinated by the biological aspect of their Training, but since his talents ran towards teaching, rather than healing, the companies hadn't bothered to give them much beyond the basic medical training, which did not include basic physiology lessons for Drivers.  Grad knew what blood and tendons and organs were, which was more than most Drivers ever learned, even most Trainer Drivers, who didn't have medical specialties.

Niki knew what he was seeing because he had seen it so many times before.  He'd had the medical terms explained to him, but he didn't really understand them, his talents didn't run to the medical, either, they ran towards analyzing, towards figuring out how to impliment what Grad told him into aerodynamics and car setup.  He couldn't have explained why, to anyone, let alone Grad, his nerves were no longer sending messages to his hand. He knew, because he'd been told that it was progressive, he believed it because he'd seen it happen before, but couldn't have explained how it was happening.

He held Grad's arm in his left hand and scooped some of the menthol rub out of the jar with his right.  He started at Grad's fingers, massaging the rub into his hand and arm, watching the waves of goosepimples travel up his skin as the stimulating medication relaxed his muscles and increased oxygen supply, making the skin feel cold, and then hot.  He worked the medication into his Racing Driver's shoulder and back, and then did the other arm and his chest for good measure.

He had turned up the heat in the house, so Grad would be warm enough until the rub was absorbed into his skin and he could put his shirt back on.  He turned to go to make lunch. He smiled when he felt Grad's hand take hold of the back of his shirt. He didn't mind the greasy smear it would leave behind, he was just glad the hand was working again.  For now.

They had lunch.  They worked on the motorcycle in the garage.

A little under 4 hours after the phone call, he heard the car outside.  Raikkonen knocked on the garage door.

Niki called him in the side door.  

Grad looked up when Raikkonen appeared in the doorway.  Niki could read his expressions without even feeling his emotions.  ‘Oh, Kimi is here. Why? This can't be good. This has to be about me. Oh no.’

The Racing Driver had the fingers of one hand pinched in the fingers of the other hand.  He turned away from the door and looked at Niki.

'Oh, no.  I'm not done, Niki, not ready.’

There was no pretense.  He didn't look away or try to choke back the tears that sprang into his eyes.

Raikkonen made a noise in his throat, a reasonable engine imitation, for a human.

Grad turned at the sound.

Raikkonen stepped into the garage and gestured a greeting.  His gestures were incredibly fluent, but rhythmic, like watching a metronome, [I came to visit you two,] He told Grad. [I don't think there's anything for you to get worried about.]  He shook his head. [We'll see what's going on and then we'll make a plan. It's not important right now, though. What kind of motorcycle are you building?]

Grad washed his hands over each other, and looked over his shoulder at Niki.  He seemed calmer than he had when he'd realized what Raikkonen must be here for.  His breathing was calming by the moment.

Niki nodded at him.  [Go ahead, tell him about your motorcycle.]

Grad turned back to Raikkonen. [It is blue.  Fast, good corners. It is from the season after we went back to Ferrari to Train.  It is a-] he made the signature Ducati engine noise.

"Ducati," Niki murmured.  Not everyone knew motorcycles purely by the sound of their engines.

Raikkonen looked up at him for a moment, eyes unreadable, then back to Grad. [This is the 916?]  It took him awhile to gesture the numbers. Racing Drivers didn't really have an easy system for expressing numbers.  He stepped forward and stooped to examine the engine.

Grad crouched beside him and started pointing out his favorite features.

Raikkonen raised his eyes to Niki, standing on the other side of the bike, and nodded to him.  Then he went back to listening closely to Grad's excited explanation. A smile spread over his face when he watched the delight on the Racing Driver's face.  When the introduction was finished, he gestured, [Let's go inside for awhile, looks like your human is getting tired. He's not as young as we are.]

They stood up more easily, Niki had to admit, than he would have been able to if he'd been crouched beside the bike.

Raikkonen followed Niki and Grad into the house and noticed immediately the stool in the center of the kitchen with the jar of salve on the counter beside it.  [Grad, fast work with the motorcycle,] he gestured. [Do you still ride motorcycles?]

[Thanks. Yes, I still ride sometimes.]

Raikkonen was watching his gestures carefully.  Niki realized he was asking questions that would require the Racing Driver to gesture with his right hand, and was watching the slurring that was happening, because Grad's hand was still not responding like it should.

[Jaamies and I learned a new game from our American teammates.  Do you want to play? Come here, Niki.] He had Niki and Grad face each other.  [You can only play with your match, because you can't look, ok?] They nodded. [Hold your hands up.  This game is called Mirror. Now, Niki, you're going to close your eyes and see if you can do with your hands what Grad is doing with his.  I'll watch, and when you miss, you switch turns. Go.]

Niki closed his eyes and felt how Grad was moving his hands.  There was a definite lag in the right hand. Grad moved his hands up, then down, then made V fingers tapped his palms together.  Niki laughed when his Driver used the bad word, and copied him. Grad laughed and gestured a series of random words at increasing speed until Niki couldn't keep up reading the feelings and translating them into motions.

Raikkonen tapped Niki's shoulder and he opened his eyes.  [Now Grad will close his eyes and copy Niki.] When Grad closed his eyes, Raikkonen gestured to Niki, [Do this.]  He touched the thumbs of his hands to each of his fingertips.

Niki copied him and Grad copied Niki, with a great deal more effort on the right hand side.  

Raikkonen flattened and extended his fingers, reaching forward and tilting his hand as far in either direction as it would go.  

Grad's right hand didn't bend nearly as far as his left, and neither of them had the same range as Niki's. Niki was impressed. This was a really good way to find out what Grad could do without Grad noticing they were examining him.

Raikkonen made a fist and curled his arm like lifting weights.

Grad's hand didn't make a fist. His fingers were barely touching his palm.  He couldn't bring his fist within 6 inches of his shoulder. His left hand wasn't a tight fist, but the arm came close to flexing properly.

Raikkonen and Niki both watched all of this closely.  After the flexing, Raikkonen nodded, and Niki did a couple funny motions, like making Grad pick his own nose, and signing a love poem to Raikkonen.  Then he did faster and faster motions, until Grad missed one. Niki clapped him on the shoulder and the game ended.

That night after Niki had taken Grad up to his sleeping cupboard, he came back downstairs and sat on the couch, watching Raikkonen for some indication of what the other man thought.

"He is not so bad.  I thought worse, when you called me.  He doesn't know, that's bad. When he wasn't matching your movements, he was not able to tell he wasn't doing the same, you saw that?"

Niki nodded.

"He is not just losing control, he is losing sensation."  He scratched his arm. "You need a job."

"What kind of job?"

"You've got 3 years, maybe a little more, if he drives.  If you keep him moving, keep him loose, keep him using it, and keep him interested. You could start consulting again."

"Ferrari fired us." Niki snorted. "Who would want us?"  

Raikkonen fixed him with an openly disbelieving look, which on the Iceman was saying something. "I didn't realize you forgot how to set up a car. Yes, after being fired you are surely no longer three times world champions.  There can be nothing young racers can learn from you." He rolled his eyes so hard even a non-Finn could see the expression. "I think I know someone you can talk to." He started swiping through his phone.

Niki's phone buzzed.  Raikkonen has shared a contact- Susie Wolff. The screen read.

"When you take Grad to meet Susie, have him talk to Gazelle about weight ratios.  She's got...opinions," Raikkonen said, with the air of a man who had listened to the same rant once too often.  He looked at his phone screen. "My flight leaves soon. When you need me to come, I will. Until then." He looked towards the stairwell and shook his head. "Don't let grief cloud the time you have left with him.  Don't."

He shook Niki's hand and Niki saw him to the door.  He watched him get into the toyota corolla rental car and pull out of the driveway.

The next time he saw Raikkonen, they were both back in F1.  Niki consulting for Mercedes, and Raikkonen working for Lotus.  They nodded to each other in passing, but didn't stop for greetings.  Neither of them were interested in small talk, like Racing Drivers, they both knew perfectly where they stood, knew that someday soon Raikkonen would get a phone call and would share the worst day of Niki's life, and everything else would go unsaid between them.  Nothing else would ever need to be said.

Raikkonen wasn't like Vettel, he wouldn't make a choice like Niki made to keep winning.  Instead he made choices like flying to Europe and using the day to help Niki come to terms with losing his other self, instead of staying in the US and having time to prepare for his debut NASCAR race.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niki and Grad are on their way from their house to the Ferrari stable, so they will be there when the Grand Tour broadcast goes live and the stable is converted into a refugee camp. They have been assigned to manage the refugee camp.
> 
> This is about a week before the broadcast that exposes and frees the Racing Drivers.

The car was running low on fuel.  It was a long time until the next filling station.  The moon was bright over the narrow valley and Niki was driving.  Grad was staring out the window with his chin propped on his fist.  When Niki saw a filling station ahead, he pulled over.

He got out.  It was very quiet.  There was no sound of machinery.  There was no lights, nothing on the machine prompting him to insert his card or pay inside.  Nothing. He lifted the handle of the petrol pump and pressed several of the dim buttons. Nothing happened.

Why was this pump shut down?  He looked around. The station had a little market in the bottom half and what looked like an apartment upstairs.  There was no light in the upper windows, not even the glow of charging electronics as might be expected.

They weren’t going to make it to the next town without petrol.  The car door opened and closed and Grad approached, shivering in the chill air.  He zipped his windbreaker up and grabbed the back of Niki’s. They walked to the front door and Niki looked in.  The drinks cooler must have had power, because the Coca Cola sign was lit from within. He knocked on the door. No motion in the building.

‘Hear anything?’  He asked Grad.

‘No.  Nothing moving but us, and the wind in the bushes.’

They went around the back.  Most people kept a spare key within 3 meters of their door.  Niki found it under a rock immediately off the back step. He let them into the back door.

Grad, incredibly moral about some things, made no comment about this.

Belongings and personal space were outside of a Racing Driver’s experience.

Niki found a switch under the counter in the front room which turned on the pumps.  He left much more cash than would pay for the fuel they needed under the cash register.

‘Car,’ Grad told him. ‘Noisy brakes, and it’s overheating.’

Another car pulled up outside.

It wasn’t a police car, so Niki assumed it must be the owners of the station.  There was a young couple inside. They looked distressed.

The man jumped out of the car and knocked on the window, waving at Niki and Grad.

“We just need some petrol!” He called.

Niki waved back to them.  He went and unlocked the front door.  He was going to explain the situation, but the man bowled inside.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash, but we’re on the way to the hospital.  My wife, she’s ill, and we have to get her to Bern. Please? Here, my watch.”  He pulled the watch off his wrist and offered it to Niki.

[He needs help,] Grad gestured.  The man watched his sign language and then looked back at Niki.

They could afford another tank of fuel.  “I will give you some gas, you keep your watch.”

They went out the front and Niki filled the family’s car with petrol. “Your car smells like it is overheating.  I have some coolant in my trunk you can have.” The man kept looking at the way Grad trundled around behind Niki, holding onto his coat, but he’d seen him speaking in sign language and assumed Niki was his carer.  They got the coolant out of the trunk and put it in the man’s engine. He shook Niki’s hand.

“Thank you.  Thank you. You have saved us.  When we come back, I will repay you, I promise you.”  He got in his car and Grad waved hugely as the couple pulled away.

They filled the tank on their own car and went back inside to turn off the pumps and pay for the other tank of fuel.  They locked the doors and went out the back, leaving the key under the rock.

Niki shook the coolant bottle, but there was only a splash left in the bottom, so he dropped it in the trash can beside the market door.  That was when he heard the knocking.

He looked up.

There was a little boy, maybe 8 years old, looking out the window at him.  When Niki looked up, the boy saw his scars, and his eyes went wide, he let out a little cry, stepped back from the window.  Then he saw Grad behind Niki, smiling mildly at him, and realized they were just normal men. “I got locked in,” He called.

They went around the back and got the key again and went into the market.  “Little boy?” Niki called.

“Where did mama and papa go?”  The boy was waiting on the other side of the door.

Oh no.  He’d been with the family.

“How did you get in here?”  Niki asked him.

“I was asleep in the back seat and when I woke up, we’d stopped, I came in to use the bathroom.  Then I came out and it was dark and I was locked in. Where did my parents go?” He didn’t seem scared, just concerned.

“They must not have known you were gone.  Do they have a mobile?”

“No.  I know the phone number at my house.”

“Is there anyone there?”  Niki pulled out his own mobile.

“No.”

“Do you know where your parents were going?”

“The hospital.  Mama is sick. The doctor called to tell us we could come for a treatment.”

“Which hospital?”

“The one in Switzerland.”

That was right, they’d said they were going to Bern.

There were a lot of hospitals in Bern.

Well, they would notice, soon that the boy wasn’t with them, and they would come back.  Until then, though, Niki couldn’t leave him alone. He didn’t really want to call the police from the filling station he’d broken into.  They should all go wait in the car.

[I could catch up to them,] Grad told him, when Niki appraised him mentally of the situation.

That didn’t seem like a safe option, and they couldn’t afford to be stopped by the police for speeding, either, this road wasn’t exactly the autobahn.  They were on back roads to avoid attention.

“We’ll wait here,” He told his Racing Driver and the boy.  “What is your name, little boy?”

“Jonas.  It is nice to meet you.  What are your names?” He held his hand out to shake.

“I’m Andreas,” He gave the boy his first name, if he hadn’t recognized Niki Lauda, he wasn’t going to tip him off.  “This is Grad.”

“What a weird name.  Are you twins?” The boy shook Niki’s hand, but Grad pulled away.

“It is a nickname.  He doesn’t like touching.”  It was a nickname. His actual name was just a perception of a high degree of accuracy.

“He speaks sign language?”

“Yes.”

“Is he deaf?”

“No, but he cannot speak.”

“Because of his scars?”

That seemed as good an excuse as any.  “Yes.”

“You can speak, though.”

“My scars aren’t as bad, they just look bad.”

The boy nodded expertly.  “I’m hungry. Can I have a candy bar?”

He clearly thought Niki was some kind of pushover with no childcare experience.  Niki chuckled. “No, we have some grilled salmon in the car, you may have some of that.  Are you allergic to anything?”

The boy shook his head.  “I can’t eat gluten. My parents always let me have candy.”

“I never let my children have candy late at night.”

“You have kids?”

Niki nodded.  They would be heading to Australia soon, with the other match’s families.  Except Matti, he was with Grigory his Racing Driver, at the Prodrive compound, they would be going to the temporary stable where the rest of the Aston and VW rally Drivers were going.  “Yes, twins about your age, and three grown boys.”

The boy looked at him like he was checking his story.  Then he nodded. “Okay, I will have salmon. Why is it in the car and not inside?  I thought you lived here.”

“No, we are...visiting.”

“So who let you in?”

Niki pretended not to hear him.

They moved the car around to the side of the building so it wouldn’t attract attention and waited in it for a long time.

[Do you remember when you asked me to tell you if any of the new matches were ever like Michael?]  Grad asked, eventually.

Niki’s head had begun to loll on the headrest of the drivers’ seat, but it came up at that.

The Racing Driver was sitting, knee up on the seat, twisted around with his arm hooked behind the passenger headrest, watching the boy asleep in the back seat under the blanket from the emergency kit in the trunk, with soft eyes.

[You don’t mean...he is…part Racing Driver.]

Grad looked up with a little smile and nodded.  [The woman in the car was, and maybe the man, a bit, generations back.]  He looked back at the boy. [He doesn’t know he is.]

Niki watched the boy sleep.  He might never know what he was, but if he did find out.  When the Grand Tour broadcast went live in a few days, the world was going to change.  He and Grad were going to be late to the Ferrari stable. They were supposed to be there to take charge of the Racing Drivers after the broadcast.  Tomorrow would be soon enough. To protect them from the fallout of the changes they would be facing.

It was getting cold in the car.  It was late and there was no traffic.

The boy was shivering, even under the blanket.

Niki sighed.  Well, the damage was already done, the owners of the filling station would already know someone had been inside, helping themselves.  He scooped the boy into his arms and carried him into the filling station. Grad unlocked the door and followed the stairs up to the apartment.

‘Everything is dressed for cold,’ He sent.

When Niki cleared the stairs, he stifled a laugh.  The furniture was covered in dust sheets. It was neat and clean, but this explained why the filling station was closed down.  They tucked Jonas in on the couch and went to find the bedroom. 

There was no closet or cupboard appropriate for Grad, so he stretched out beside Niki on the unmade bed, under a few of the dust sheets.  He cuddled close and their bodies warmed up the space under the covers. His hand twined in Niki’s sweater and he fell asleep almost immediately, with his face pressed close against his human’s chest.  Niki stayed awake for awhile longer, but he was certain that Jonas’ parents would knock determinedly enough to wake them when they got back, and he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up to Jonas’ face about a hand's breadth from his.  “Niki? Can I have eggs for breakfast? I can’t eat cereal. I can’t eat gluten.”

He remembered the boy saying that last night.  It made sense, Racing Driver digestive systems were intolerant of grains.  “I will find something.”

“There is nothing in the fridge.”

Of course there wasn’t.

The ice in the cooler had melted, and everything was swimming in water and spoiled.  They had only planned on being on the road until they reached the stable. He hadn’t anticipated several days worth of meals.

“You stay here with Grad.  If your parents come back while I am at the store, please ask them to stay until I get back, don’t do anything Grad tells you not to.  He will do this,” He made the stop gesture, “If he is telling you no.”

He sent them inside and drove down to the market.  While he was there, he called the number Jonas had given him for his parents’ home, and made some phone calls trying to locate the boy’s parents, according to the names the boy had given him.

When he got back with some breakfast food and some plastic plates and utensils, and a pan, because he hadn’t seen one in the little kitchen in the apartment, there was a stack of boxes next to the register that had NOT been there when he left.  It was cases of chips and soda and motor oil and gum.

Grad came down the stairs when Niki walked in.  Jonas was tagging along behind him, holding the back of Grad’s sweater like Grad always held Niki’s.

[Where did these come from!?] Niki demanded.

[A man in a truck came and brought them in, He seemed like he knew what he was doing, do I didn’t stop him.]

[He just dropped it off?!] Niki asked.

"He signed for it." Said the boy.

Niki looked at Grad.

Grad shrugged.

Racing Drivers are trained to sign pieces of paper that are pushed at them.

“He asked where Brigit was, and I told him she wasn’t here, he said, well here’s your week’s order, tell Brigit that I’m glad she didn’t go out of business after all.” The boy hooked his thumbs in his belt loops like a little official.

There was a knock at the door.

A woman was peering inside at them, waving a hand, like Jonas’ father had, but much less worried.

“Can you sell me some petrol?”  She called through the glass.

He sighed and went and turned the pump back on.

While he was out pumping her gas, she went inside.

‘How much money does the red bag with the yellow crisp on it mean?’ Grad sent, ‘Nevermind, Jonas knows.’

Niki hurried inside.

“How do I work the cash register?” Jonas asked.

They hadn’t been able to figure it out the first night, in the dark, so he’d set his money underneath.  The woman wanted to pay in cash, though, so he gave her change from the money he’d hidden there. He would put some more back, he’d gotten cash from the market, to pay for their night’s lodging.

He looked at the open case of crisps, with one bag missing.  Well they couldn’t send these back, and they couldn’t just leave them here, Brigit obviously wasn’t expecting to be back any time soon, or there wouldn’t be dust sheets on the furniture.  They were going to have to stay here until Jonas’ parents came back. He was getting pretty concerned about that. By now they must have noticed he was gone.

He looked at the money she’d handed him.

Okay.

Ferrari would have to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

“Grad can’t count,” Jonas told Niki that evening, when he was helping with the dishes after dinner.  Grad was sweeping the dust from all the floors. “He couldn’t make change for the man with the lorry.”

“He isn’t familiar with the money, here.”  Niki washed the dishes while Jonas rinsed them.

“He didn't know when I gestured the numbers to him.”

“Sign language has different gestures for numbers than just holding up your fingers.” He started washing another plate.

Then Jonas gestured the Racing Driver gesture for 4 and Niki nearly dropped the plate.

‘I did tell you.’  Grad never looked up from sweeping.

‘He can speak gestures?’

‘He could send if I pushed.’  The feeling that accompanied this was like pushing your finger through plastic wrap to get to food in a package.

Then all the food going dry.

Probably best not to, without other Racing Drivers here to fill the need to communicate that would cause.

He turned around and crossed his arms.  “Do you have any classmates who are dyslexic?”

The boy nodded.

“It is like that.  He struggles to understand numbers.  He is very intelligent, his brain just gets confused by them.  If you describe how many or how much you mean…” He almost said, or send a picture...He was slipping into Trainer mode, treating this boy like a new match who had to be taught to deal with Racing Drivers.  He didn’t need to explain how Grad worked. This boy was going to go home and probably never come across another Racing Driver face to face. “He will understand,” He finished, lamely.

Grad snorted from across the room.

‘You know the humans with our blood are drawn to us.  If you offered him the keys to the car, you would see a very familiar sight.’  There was a moment of consideration while Grad assessed the boy’s potential. ‘He would do well.  If he is going to live with us, he will need to learn, soon. He has been meeting the need somehow, but here, he will clearly be without his normal means.’

Nike and Grad had been going out nights, when the boy was asleep, taking 20 minute drives, to meet the older Driver’s need.  Then checking back in and going again. 40 minutes or an hour a day was a stopgap for a multiple world champion. Grad was going to need something more, soon, but they would have to deal with that when they came to it.  The roads weren’t heavily patrolled by police, for all of that. That was not a risk Niki was really interested in taking, anymore. They weren’t young and reckless anymore, and with Jonas waiting for them….

It was clear, now, they weren’t going to be at Ferrari to manage the stable.  He was going to have to find a way to tell Clarkson so they would have time to find someone else to go.

That would require a trip to a bigger town, come to think of it.

He could bring Jonas, let Grad drive, take care of two problems in one smooth motion.

“I am sorry.  I didn’t mean to make fun of him.  I have never met a grown up who couldn’t count before.  I forgot to think that if kids have problems, they must grow up into grown ups who have the same problems.”  Jonas wiped a fork dry and set it back in the drawer.

Niki looked at him.  That was a VERY advanced concept for an 8 year old human.  Just about right for an 8 year old Racing Driver, with their shorter maturation.

He wondered how well that had gone among the other 8 year olds.  Except, Racing Drivers were experts at soothing feelings and getting along.

He felt a little mental pinch.  Grad was leaning on the broom handle, looking at them, waiting patiently for Niki to look up to “see” his gestures.  [Tell him thank you.] He glanced at Jonas.

“He says thank you.”

“How do I say you’re welcome?”

Niki showed him the gesture and Jonas turned and performed it neatly.

‘We are driving, then?  To tell The men that we will be late to Ferrari?’

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

Grad nodded and smiled at the boy.  [We are going for a drive tomorrow. Has anyone ever explained how to shift to you?]

The boy shook his head, but bounced on his toes.

It was going to have to be a larger town with a kart track.  Hopefully they could keep from drawing notice. Fortunately, it would be a few days before the broadcast went live.


	4. Chapter 4

The day dawned clear and cold.  They sat in the car, with Grad at the wheel and Jonas in the front seat in the booster seat they’d bought for him.  Niki was in the back, center seat, watching Grad drive.   It had been so long since he and Grad had worked with anyone other than F1 drivers, who were used to sharp instructions, he had forgotten how soft Grad could be with Little Racing Drivers.

[This car has a gear stick, because we like to drive manually,] He pointed back at Niki, [It allows better control of power.]  He chattered away, always one hand on the wheel, mostly talking with his fingers and shoulders, and sending. Niki translated all of this.

Jonas nodded, seriously, like he was taking mental notes.

Grad was a smooth driver.  He would have been excellent in classic rally.  They arrived in the town Niki had chosen. They paid their way into the kart track.  It was nice and cold and their hats, scarves and sunglasses hid their faces. 

Niki followed the Racing Drivers into the rental area, absently translating the clerk’s directions for Grad, and turned on his smartphone.

He connected to the Grand Tour’s private server.  He logged in with his secure account information. He opened a dialogue with Andy Wilman, the producer of the show, the man coordinating the efforts.  He would know who to contact, to send to the stable and to get the information across to whoever would be sent. He explained that he was delayed and would not be arriving as expected at Ferrari.

Grad and Jonas posed in their rental helmets.  Grad’s was red, of course, and Jonas’ was the same color as the t-shirt he’d arrived at the gas station wearing.

White.

The color he liked to wear most.

Niki looked at Grad, who smiled, ‘Yes, he knows his color affinity.  He does not know what it means, but he would not let the man give him the blue helmet.’  He smiled down at the boy, touching his shoulder with gentle fingertips.

[You look strong in this color.  It is good for you,] Grad told him.

They went out to the track and Grad reached out for the first kart in line.

‘Do not sing to her, humans will hear you making that noise!’ Niki took a fast step forward with his hand up.

Grad sent deep impatience.  ‘I know that,’ He said.

There was obvious chagrin in his mind.

Niki knew he’d forgotten.

It was instinct for the Racing Driver to use his voice to find the car with the right...resonance.  Or whatever it was. Grad had explained a hundred times, in a hundred different ways. Niki accepted that somehow, Racing Drivers could make a high pitched keening noise and...tell how an engine would run.  Grad couldn’t explain the facility to Niki and Niki couldn’t comprehend how this could be done.

It worked, though.

It relied on Grad making a noise no human could make, so Grad would have to skip it, here, and rely on his visual mechanical understanding.  [It is important to look at the karts,] He told Jonas. [See this one has rust here?] He pointed to part of the steering column. [And this one has a wet spot underneath?  Here is uneven tyre wear. These all tell you things about the kart.]

“That we don’t want them,” Jonas nodded.

Grad shrugged, [Sometimes.  You do not want her,] He pointed to a kart with the wet spot, [But none of these karts will be perfect, they are practice karts only.  It is important to know WHAT each of these things tells you about how the kart will drive. Sometimes you are not allowed to choose which kart, or which car you will drive, but if you see the flaws, you will know, before the race starts, what she will do.  The rust means hard to steer, the uneven tyre wear means different grip cornering than in the straight. A Racing Driver must adapt to their car. No car is perfect. You must learn to get the best from the car you are with.]

Jonas nodded, with wide eyes and a mouth slightly open.  [Which one should I pick?]

[Which one do you think YOU will be able to drive best?] Grad asked.

Jonas turned and pointed to a green kart in the midfield.

Grad nodded.  [Now choose a different one.]

The boy’s face scrunched.  [What?]

[Learning to drive isn’t about driving easy cars.  It is about overcoming challenges. I want you to challenge yourself.]

“Niki,” Jonas turned to the man and shook his head.  “I don’t understand why he wants me to do that.”

“The more challenging the task, the greater the reward,” Niki answered.  It was far from true, but it was the point Grad was trying to make. “He believes in you.  He thinks you can do better than just winning.”

“What?  Better than winning?”

Niki almost said, “For Racing Drivers,” but stopped himself in time.  “Anyone can win in a kart that is faster. It is more show of skill to do well in a kart that is slower.”

“I don’t HAVE any skill.  I don’t know how to drive.”

“If you do not feel proud of yourself doing your best in this kart, you can try the green kart next time,” Niki said.

Grad’s eyes went wide and he tilted his head in disbelief.  He crossed his arms. ‘Are you taking away my teaching Trainer title, Niki?’ He asked.

‘You are a teacher for Racing Drivers, this boy is part human, he is not used to hard rules.’

“Well, maybe I could try the other kart next time,” Jonas wheedled.

Grad looked confused.  ‘Why is he doing that? Trying to change your mind?’

‘I told you.  He is human. He is not used to doing as a lead stallion or mare says without questioning.  Human children test limits.’

‘Why?’

‘Because human parents make mistakes.’

Grad clamped his mouth shut so his Flat-12 Pre-Turbo chuckle couldn’t be heard.  'Yes!  This is true.'

Niki chuckled.

‘You have not made such mistakes, Matti’s stallion is pleased with him.  Max’s stallion will be proud, when it is time, and Mia, if the stables call her.  I have just realized the stables will not have a right to call, soon.’ Grad smiled all the way across his face.  ‘Max and Mia’s Racing Drivers will be able to invite them to match, themselves, and Christoph and Lukas’ stallions will be allowed to match with them!  I will be so proud!’

He was preening, neck arched like a swan.  Thrilled with the idea of Niki’s children, matching as a matter of choice.

Jonas was watching the two older ‘men’ just looking at each other, without words, and reacting back and forth like they were having a conversation.

Niki noticed him and stopped.  “Pick a kart, Jonas,” He called, to cover his embarrassment.

He didn’t take the green kart, he took the yellow one beside it.

Grad rumbled happily to himself, quiet so the sound could have passed for the karts on the next track over.  The stallion went and settled himself in a blue kart. Niki had a suspicion it was the slowest one there.

That would make him happy when he drove it well.


	5. Chapter 5

Niki stood under the gas station sign.  [Try the switch again,] He signaled to Grad.

He felt the sense of a finished task from Grad, but no light came on in the sign.  The building had power, and the sign shared the source, the switch was inside, near the register counter, marked “Station Sign.”

‘What is this door?’ Grad asked.

Niki could see through the glass storefront that he was gesturing, but from this distance his eyes could not make out the subtle finger movements.

He walked back inside.  Grad and Jonas were standing in the corner of the market, inside the doorway to the back hall where they stored the extra boxes of motor oil and the air fresheners the delivery truck had brought the first day.  At one end was the apartment stairwell.

At the other was a door they hadn’t been through.

“Check the keys!” Jonas said, holding Grad’s forearm and jumping.  Grad obliged him by lifting his arm as Jonas jumped, lending height to his jumps.

Niki took out the ring of keys they’d found under the register drawer.  It had a Shell key tag, a key to the front door, the back door and an old fashioned key for the apartment bathroom.  That had come in handy when Grad had locked himself in with the unfamiliar, persnickety, bathroom doorknob. The station bathroom keys were on a hook under the counter, with big wooden plaques that said, “Mädchen” and “Junge.”

The key ring also had 3 keys that went to mystery locks.

“We will try.” Niki held the first key up.  It was clearly for something smaller than a door, a combination lock, maybe.

Grad and Jonas stared in rapt attention.

He put it to the old, silver door lock.  It’s shape didn’t align with the keyhole.

Jonas made a little growl, almost like a motor.

Niki held up the next key, a new gold door key.

Jonas inhaled.

The key shape fit, but the key wouldn’t turn.

Jonas huffed his breath out.

Grad’s shoulders dropped.

They rose again when Niki held up the third key.

It the same brand as the lock.  He slid it into the hole. He turned it.  The tumblers clicked, and the doorknob turned.

They opened the door, dim light came through the small windows in the large doors of the service station.  Illuminating a dusty, familiar smelling, garage. 

Niki was thrown back in time fifty years, to a two car garage hundreds of kilometers away, to a struggling racing company, and the best time of his life. 

The stallion pushed past the humans and leveled into a creaky crouch, reaching down to touch the yellow painted car jack.  He looked up at Niki with a shine in his eyes, [GreenBear,] He said. [Do you remember? After Peugeot made us leave?]

Of course Niki remembered.  Grad’s genius had made Green Bear’s terrible car competitive.  He had found and solved their engineering problems, they had built the car around his racing style, and he won with them.  Of course, then, Ferrari wanted them, and they were “called to the big team” as Racing Drivers put it. Ferrari had given Grad his championships, but Green Bear had given him his chance.

He hadn’t thought of the tiny, defunct team in years.

This wasn't their garage, but it held some of the same spirit.  The smell was the same, and nothing had been done to update this garage since at least the mid seventies.

Grad looked up at Niki again.

[Bring the car in here.]

[It is perfectly tuned.]

Grad shook his head.  He stood, faster than he had been able to, and with no elderly grunt.  He started pulling open the wooden drawers of the elderly workbench.

The tools inside were a mess.  Wrenches, pliers, sockets that had never dreamed of seeing a ratchet.  All tangled with wire and enough nuts and bolts to fill a factory.

How was Grad going to use these tools?  His hands…

[I do not think…] Niki started.

Grad pulled a wrench out of the drawer.  The socket end was caught on something and at the least resistance, Grad’s grip slipped.

The wrench fell loose and tumbled to the floor.

Grad stared at it open mouthed.

For a moment he had been thrown back in time, too.  To the 19 year old who had been able to lift the front of his car off the ground himself, and balance it on it’s back wheels.

The wrench, black with tarnish, lay at the 68 year old Racing Driver’s feet.

“I’ll help you,” Jonas said.

The 8 year old stepped forward and picked up the wrench, handing it to the old stallion.

Grad smiled a thin smile at him.  He handed the wrench back, hand shaking with the effort of holding the weight.

[I cannot do this.]

Jonas recognized that sentence by now.  “If you tell me what to do. I will do it for you.”

The idea of the little boy wrenching rusted bolts was silly, but at the same time, it made Niki’s heart warm, and through him, Grads.  “I will help, too,” Niki said. A 68 year old Racing Driver might be nearing the end of his strength, but his 65 year old match still had plenty to give.

He could still loosen rusty bolts.

And Jonas, looking up at the Champion stallion with belief in his eyes, needed some connection to the truth he would someday find in his heart.

Niki could hear the rev in his voice, and the petrol in his blood, and that blood would begin to tell.  Someday he was going to want to match, and the person he would choose would be the one who offered him the understanding his heart desired.

He needed to understand his heritage, even if he was never told WHAT it was.  He needed to understand cars.

There was no one better to teach him than this stallion.


	6. Chapter 6

The house had stood empty and quiet for 4 months.  The door swung open, without a creak, and let the sunshine onto the floor in the foyer.  Niki smiled at the familiar table with the lacquered mail sorter and the the matching shoe cubby.  Grad’s rainboots and Niki’s snowboots, and Birgit’s silk slippers, waiting for her to come home and put them on.  A lone child’s sneaker was stuffed into a cubby at knee height, with a stuffed cuckoo bird peeking out of it.

Grad set down his bag and touched Jonas’ shoulder.  He pointed to the shoe cubby, with all his fingers, to indicate how important it was; Jonas had become used to taking off and putting aside his shoes every time they entered the apartment above the station.  [This is our shoe box.] He touched the empty spaces on the far left. [These will be yours.]

He smiled, and his face clenched, trying to clear the tears from his eyes.

Jonas smiled, but his smile faded sooner.  He sat beside the old stallion on the bench and they took off their shoes.

Niki looked up the stairs.

His wife and the twins hadn’t come rushing down to greet them.

‘I cannot hear anyone in the house,’ Grad sent, hands full with his shoes.  He turned his head. ‘I can hear the car coming up the street.’

Niki set his bags down and went outside.

Birgit was barreling down the road.  She didn’t bother to pull into the driveway, but stopped on the street in front of the house.  The twins threw open the back doors.

“Daddy!”  The seven year olds ran towards him, and their mother followed.

“Mia!” Niki hugged his daughter as she barreled into him, slowing from top speed only in the last step before she reached him.  Max crashed into his other leg an instant later.

Birgit reached him a moment later, kissing him soundly.  “Niki, you’re finally home! You frightened me so badly! We never knew you never arrived at Ferrari, until they showed that AWFUL video of those police surrounding the camp, and then no one could tell us where you were, for WEEKS.”  She stopped herself from repeating the story she’d told him when they’d finally been allowed to speak on the phone. “Where is he? Where is Grad’s…”

“Son,” Niki said.  “Adopted son.”

Birgit’s eyes turned from scanning the house, to make firm eye contact.  “It seems so strange that Grad wanted to adopt a child. His health.”

Niki’s eyes clouded up.  “He’ll give him what he can.  Jonas loves him.”

“Daddy,” Mia pulled on Niki’s pant leg.  “We can meet him? Our new brother?”

Niki nodded.

Jonas was already peeking out through the curtains, with Grad watching above him.  The boy looked up at the Racing Driver as the twins ran across the lawn, and then opened the door and came out to meet them.  He walked onto the grass and stopped and let them run up to him.

They hugged him, yelling welcomes.  He hesitated, and then put his arms around each of them.  They started to run towards the house, but Grad, standing in the doorway, revved, and waved a hand towards Birgit.  ‘Tell him to introduce himself to the lady of the house,’ He directed Niki.

Niki translated the message to Jonas.

Jonas turned and came over to Niki, reaching out and holding his hand and looking up at Birgit.  “I am Jonas Andreas. Pleased to meet you. My...Parents are not coming back, but Grad adopted me to be my father.  He says I should thank you for inviting me to come and live with your family.” He held the hand that was not clasped around Niki’s, out to shake.

Birgit pulled him into a hug.  “You are very welcome. We are happy to have you as part of our family.”

Jonas hugged her.  There was sadness in his smile, but his fingers clung to her back.

The twins came and joined in a group hug.

“Come inside, and we’ll all have a nice big dinner,” Birgit told them.

“I can help!  Niki taught me to cook when we were still at home.”  Jonas preened, little mirror of his adoptive father.

“Home?”  Birgit asked.

“In Kaunertal,” Jonas answered, without looking up.

“At the station,” Niki filled in.

She looked at the boy in wonder.  Then she looked at Niki. He shrugged.  “Kids are resilient,” He said, so low none of the others could hear.

She took Jonas’ hand and led him in the front door to the kitchen, asking him about what he had learned to cook and what he liked to eat.  Niki let them step in front of him and drifted behind, with Grad.

The woman and children went into the house.

Niki caught his stallion’s left hand.

It was limp in his grasp.  ‘You can’t talk?’ Niki asked.

Grad shook his head.  ‘No, it won’t move at all. I can move the other one, but my fingers won’t say what I tell them to.’

Niki leaned against him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘Call Kimi.  You will need him, soon.  A few weeks.’

They wrapped their arms around each other and hid their faces against each others’ necks.


	7. Chapter 7

Two months later, at the end of April, Niki texted Kimi again.  ‘It is time.’

The next morning, he woke up and went to the hospital bed that had been brought in for Grad, once his legs would no longer hold him.  He sat on the side of the bed and stroked the Racing Driver’s face. Grad’s eyes opened. He smiled at the other half of himself.

‘There is a Trainer here,’ He thought, muzzily.  He levered his arm out from under the covers, laid it on top of the quilt, and Niki held his hand.  ‘Go say hello to him.’

‘Do you need anything?’ Niki asked.

‘I am well,’ Grad answered.

Niki kissed his cheek.  He dressed and went downstairs.  There was movement in the kitchen, and a young Racing Driver’s voice.

He could hear Birgit talking quietly and the sounds of cooking.

He walked into the kitchen, “Good morning, Raikkonen.”

The man who turned away from the stove was NOT Kimi Raikkonen.  It was Carlos Sainz Jr. His Yellow was sitting on the counter, stirring something in a mixing bowl in the crook of his arm.  He revved and nodded a greeting at Niki.

Carlos turned around, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.  “Niki. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He reached his hand out to shake.

“Where is he?” Niki demanded.

“Kimi asked me to visit and help you.  He said he can’t come back to Europe right now.”

Niki’s face twisted in anger.

Kimi was the one he’d chosen.  He had resigned himself to the fact that it would be Kimi by his side when Grad died.  Kimi had sent this BOY who had barely begun his Training when the companies ended.

Some rookie Niki didn’t know well enough to trust.

Carlos saw the unwelcome on Niki’s face.  He withdrew his hand and wiped it on the towel again.  “Fili is one of the best medical Trainers. We are young, but he has shown himself VERY adept.”

“Medicine won’t help him.  I need someone who knows how to share our last….”  His voice caught and he shook his head. He wanted to tell Carlos to get out.

He couldn’t.  He turned and walked back up the stairs.

Birgit brought up a warm lunch that had clearly been cooked with a Racing Driver’s health in mind.  “He is just trying to help,” She said.

Niki didn’t answer.  He spoon fed his best friend the meal.

Grad made appreciative noises and complimented the cooking.  Niki took the pain and felt it with the Racing Driver.

In the evening he went downstairs and passed the dining room, which was dark, except for the lamp on the buffet, and the young bond pair was sitting on the bench where Niki and Grad usually sat side by side, reading a medical textbook, the Racing Driver leaning his head on his man’s shoulder, while Carlos held the book up in the light.  They looked up and gestured greetings when he looked in at them. He nodded. He went to bring the children up to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Grad. Max and Mia said goodnight and went to their room for a story read by their mother. Jonas cuddled in beside Grad and they talked with Jonas using his limited repertoire of gestures, and Grad’s words translated into German by Niki.  

When Jonas fell asleep, there was a quiet creak on the floorboards beside the bedroom door.  Grad looked up and nodded.

Niki turned to see the little Yellow waiting silently in the doorway.  He came in and picked Jonas up, touching Grad’s cheek lightly with his fingertips and then stepping away, waiting for Niki’s direction.  Niki led him into the childrens’ bedroom, where Fili lay Jonas down on his bed, and stepped back again, so Niki could tuck him in.

[We will be ready, to teach him who he is, even after,] Fili told Niki.  [Whoever you chose, we will be honored to care for Grad’s son.] He pinched his lips tightly and nodded in agreement with himself.

That wasn’t true.  Niki had chosen Kimi, and Kimi hadn’t come.  When it was most important, Kimi was somewhere else.

[The herds respect Grad, and you.  We will never abandon you.] Fili turned and walked, on silent socked feet, out of Grad’s son’s bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

Grad’s eyes snapped open on a Wednesday morning.  His hand waved meaninglessly. ‘Open the door,’ He insisted.

The doorbell rang before Niki had reached the bottom of the stairs.

He opened it.

He could hear two pairs of footsteps coming in from the back of the house.  Heavy but careful, Fili and Carlos.

Kimi Raikkonen and his big White stallion were standing there.  His eyes were wide, almost wild. “I brought it,” He said.

He held up a messenger bag.  It was nylon, and worn. Like something a poor college student would carry.  It looked like it had been run over by a city bus.

Before Niki could tell him where he could put the bag, Jonas thundered down the steps.

“Why didn’t you come?!” The boy screamed.  He ran right into Raikkonen, shoving him backwards onto the porch.  He stepped back, legs braced, arms half raised, like a stallion about to fight with his elbows.  “Now he’s DYING and you didn’t come to help him!”

The White stallion barked a brakes noise.  He stepped between his human and the angry boy.  He was broad shouldered and heavy muscled and his hair was shoulder length, flying behind him like an angry Viking.

The boy’s gaze stuttered and he dropped his eyes.

[Your lead stallion did NOT teach you to behave this way,] Jaamies was indignant.  [Be a good foal.]

Jonas slunk up close to the champion Trainer and gave one cheek a quick kiss.

Jaamies nuzzled his cheek back.  [Better.]

Kimi touched Jaamies on the shoulder, pushing past him without pushing and said to Niki, “I brought medication.  It will HELP him, Niki.” His grey eyes were earnest.

Niki stepped aside.  “Where did you find something to help him?”  He followed Kimi into the house and gestured at the stairs.

Carlos and Fili were standing at the bottom of the stairs watching.

“The Wild Stigs know more about their biology than we do.  They have medicines that cure illnesses we thought were fatal,” Kimi said.  “You two set me up an IV drip, please,” He told Carlos and Fili.

Niki followed them up the steps.

The stallion and the boy stayed outside.  The boy was crying in the stallion’s arms, now, and Jaamies was rubbing his cheek over the boy’s hair and making a chuffing noise.

The bed where Grad lived was at one side of Niki and Birgit’s bedroom, so they could keep an eye on him during the night.  The lights were low, but the Racing Driver was alert, watching the door with sharp eyes.

Kimi walked to the side of the bed and crouched in Grad’s line of sight.  They had the same proud smile. Kimi never made a motion, but Grad’s expression changed.

Niki watched what Kimi had been shown to be able to do.  To speak with Racing Drivers in sending.

Behind him, Carlos and Fili changed out the bag of saline, replacing it with the IV bag Kimi had brought.

“The Wild Stigs sent medicine in an IV bag?” Niki asked?

“No, they sent it in a glass bottle.  I had to have it sealed into the bag when I got back, otherwise I would have been here two days ago,” Kimi answered, never looking away from Grad.

“Back from where?”  Niki asked.

Kimi turned around and for the first time, Niki realized something about him had changed.  “I went to Antarctica. To the Ice. To get a cure for Rexford’s Disease.”

“You went to Antarctica?” Niki repeated.

[What is it like?] Carlos asked.  He had a weird habit of gesturing everything he said, as well as saying it out loud.

Kimi tilted his head once.  “It is a society for Stigs. There is too much to tell.  The next season of the Grand Tour will tell, unless you choose to go for yourselves,” He said to Carlos.  “They know a lot about medicine.”

He didn’t gesture everything.

Niki supposed he didn’t have to.  He sent to Racing Drivers. He didn’t bother with gestures.

Fili replaced the IV tube in Grad’s arm.

“How long will it take?” Niki asked.

“It should stop the degeneration within hours, and start his body making repairs.  He will have to be treated for months until he is his usual self. Then there is another treatment he will take occasionally, to keep it from starting again,” Kimi said.

“He is already so old.  Does he have months?” Niki asked.

Kimi looked chagrined.  “Because he’s already lived so much longer than a Racing Driver’s life expectancy?”

Niki nodded.

“Racing Drivers on the Ice,” Kimi said, pressing his hands together, “Don’t die in their 50’s.  Did you notice that Trainer stallions usually live longer? Grad? Ukkonen? Professor?”

“They’re all champions.  Champions are stronger.”

“Leggera?” Kimi asked.  “He and Constalioga never raced. He was only a Trainer.”

“Training gives strength,” Niki said, starting to feel unsure.

“Training gives a chance to live outside the stable,” Kimi said.  “Where the companies can’t slowly poison them. Grad lived past 55 because you were feeding him, and you weren’t adding anything to his food to decrease his lifespan.  Racing Drivers don’t HAVE to die in their 50’s. They will live as long, or longer, since they’re healthier, than most humans. Grad will probably live as long as you do, Niki.  Now that the companies are gone, all of ours will live as long as we do.”

“No one ever told me this.  I managed Ferrari. Why didn’t I know?”

Kimi looked down.  “I don’t know. Maybe they knew where your loyalties were.  You always came down firmly on the side of the Racing Drivers’ safety.”

And Kimi hadn’t.

He hadn’t even been on the drivers’ safety council, until he’d been practically forced to.

The evidence at Kimi’s trial said he volunteered to be the Trainer who put the Racing Drivers down.  Only during the trial had it come out that he was using his unique ability to ease the Racing Drivers’ pain as they died.  Until that had come out, he had been seen by FIA as completely bloodthirsty. Completely willing to hurt Racing Drivers to get ahead.

Niki hadn’t ever been willing to hurt Racing Drivers, or even risk their safety.

So FIA would be willing to tell Kimi they were ending the Racing Driver’s lives early.

Niki reached out and squeezed Grad’s hand.

‘Thank you for taking me away from there,’ Grad sent.  ‘Thank you for giving me a taste of freedom while I could still enjoy it.’

Niki sent everyone else out of the room, and held his other self’s hand.


	9. Chapter 9

In the Midlands of the UK, huge empty housing developments, row houses that stretched for miles, built during the height of the British automotive dominance, were being repopulated.  Industry and commerce based on teaching and supporting the Racing Drivers as they were integrated into human society, and as human society was adapted to make room for them.

The city of Wolverham had been chosen by the leadership of the combined McLaren/Mercedes herd as the site of their new community.  The influx of population, and the demand for services and supplies, the money the herds had been compensated with, following their release, had revitalized the dying economy.  It was not a long term solution, but the Stigs would bring their own income.

A community of engineers, architects and designers, committed to providing a better life for their families would continue to bring money into the area.

Niki and Grad had been invited by the Rosberg-Hamiltons, to stay in the community.  They lived in a refurbished townhouse on a corner of the street. Their family was cozy in the house, and Mattias and his family lived in the next house.

The day was grey and drizzling, but Grad was waiting with Niki’s coat in his hand, beside the door.  Niki pulled the windbreaker on and felt Grad’s hand clasp onto the back. Another hand clasped on beside it.  Young teenager’s hands.

Jonas, Mia and Max smiled at Niki when he looked back.

They went out to the sidewalk.  Niki led them down the street. The weather hadn’t detered the young families along the block from spending time outside.  A group of youngsters, from 4 to 14 ran by, shouting in a pidgen of gestures, British Sign Language, revs, and spoken languages from half a dozen Northern European countries.

They kicked a football between them.

They came to a sort of stop in front of Niki and Grad.  [Hello, Stallion! Champion. Grad’s human. Hello stallions!]

[Good morning,] They gestured.

[Come play with us,] The group offered.

[May we?] Jonas asked Grad.

[Be back for lunch,] Grad told him.

Jonas leaned up on his toes and kissed Grad’s cheeks.

He and the twins merged with the crowd of foals and humans.

Grad tugged on Niki’s coat and they started out again.  They walked until they reached the place where 3 houses had been knocked down, and a large community garden was filling the space.

They stood and looked over the young mares and stallions moving through the garden, weeding the beds.  They were singing a song about growing carrots. A new song, written since the freedom.

They looked up from their work and greeted the old bond pair and then went back to their work.

Niki led Grad to the bench in the shelter beside the tank that collected the water from the system of tubes and lines running over the garden.  In this rain it was gurgling as the water ran through the sand and gravel purification inside the tank. They cuddled up and watched the rain.

[The sky is not blue today,] Niki told Grad, [But I am so happy we could stand under it together.  Are you enjoying freedom, self?]

[Absolutely,] Grad answered, with perfect gestures.  [As long as I am with you, I am happy.]

Niki squeezed his hand.  [I hope you are happy for yourself, as well?]

[Yes.  My life is very good.  I am proud and pleased with my herd.  My foal is...a wonderful part of my life.]

[I am glad to hear your happiness does not rely on me,] Niki told him.  [I love you.] He leaned against Grad’s shoulder and as they sat, he gradually relaxed.

[I love you, too, Niki, I am glad for every moment we ever shared together.]  Grad kissed his silent human’s temple, and sat and watched the rain fall in freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest Well, Champion.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment.
> 
> If you are having a hard time thinking what to say, please consider the following (feel free to leave your letter of choice.)
> 
> A) I like this  
> B) This is awesome  
> C) What will happen next?  
> D) I didn't think this was interesting.
> 
> Real People don't belong to me.
> 
> This story is fiction and is no reflection on anyone in it. The story does belong to me, as does the AU in which it is set.


End file.
